“You girls may have stumbled on something at that!” the chief exclaimed with a faint note of admiration in his voice. “Yes, indeed!”
They stood in the untidy living room wondering what might be the solution to all this mystery. Tania rubbed against Sim’s slim legs. The girl gently pulled the silky ears, something forming in her mind.
“I’ve got an idea!” Sim cried out. “Perhaps Tania could trace Dimitri if she had something of his to sniff at. After all, she’s a wolfhound, and the hound part of her name must mean that she can trace missing persons.”
“We can try,” Arden admitted. Somehow, despite the chief’s presence, the girls regarded the “case” as their own and did not dream of consulting him on matters such as this one.
Momentarily the discovery of the piece of letter and the map was forgotten in the excitement of the new suggestion. Sim found a battered old felt hat and held it before Tania’s nose.
The dog sniffed at it disdainfully and then sat back on her haunches looking at Sim.
“Go find him!” Sim urged. “Find Dimitri!”
The tone of her voice may have done it, or else it was a game of dog and played before, for she sprang up again and dashed toward the door. Standing on her hind legs and pushing with her forepaws, she opened it, for it was not fully latched.
Tania galloped down to the water edge and ran back and forth excitedly, her nose to the ground. The cat-tails in the marsh bent before the strong wind, which whistled eerily through the tall sedge grass. As is usual with nor’easters, the rain had temporarily ceased again, and the afternoon sky seemed a little brighter. Tania turned to look questioningly at the girls as she raced back and forth along the little strip of ground. At last she stopped and, sitting down, facing the storm-swept bay, she howled mournfully.
“Tania!” Arden called. The dog came slowly to her, tail between her legs, a picture of despair.